Wired For War
by nyx-as-nightshadows
Summary: My name is Malia Avice. Until a few months ago I was a troubled kid, with occasional violent outbursts. I had family and friends, and people who cared about me. And then in a second everything changed. Rated T cause I'm paranoid.
1. I wish (prolouge)

**Hello humans. I'm back! (Did you miss me? ) So my other fanfic, I will still be updating, but I really want to start working on this one so the other one is on hold. I'm going to be updating more frequently probably because my laptop is actually working once again, (thank the gods). **

**Also this chap is really short because its the prologue.  
**

**Anyway please review. **

**Disclaimer-Do you really think Uncle Rick would be here writing fanfic? No, so use your common sense. **

**Wired For War**

I never wanted any of this to happen. Believe me, if I could take a time machine back, I would. Unfortunately, that's impossible, which is surprising since over the past few months I've learned that anything can happen.

Eight months ago, if anyone had told me that magic, monsters, and even the Greek gods existed I would laughed, then recommended the nearest insane asylum. If they had told me that in one heartbeat, one second, that a blink of an eye could destroy my life forever, I would have thought nothing of it. From peaceful to tragic, from joyous to miserable? _Impossible_.

But that's all it took. Just one second and my life changed forever.

My name is Malia Avice. Until eight months ago I was a slightly pessimistic, troubled teenager with rage problems. I had a vengeful and paranoid mother, a stepdad desperate for my satisfaction, and the sweetest half-sister ever, that I couldn't help but adore. I attended Pinnacle Middle School, in York, Maine where I was forced to attend "therapeutic lessons for adolescents" and "trust circles". I had a group of friends, who I thought cared about me, and an arrest record about a mile long. But everyone is gone now, in fact that life is gone now.

I'm warning you, if you see yourself in these pages, if you can relate even just the tiniest bit than follow these instructions. Lock your doors, close the shades, make up any excuse to stay home from school, and most importantly, hug your family one last time. You may never see them again. Then, _run. _

Here's the thing about monsters, eventually they _will _find you. It's only a matter of time. If they are going to get to you, you might as well save your family. You see, monsters can't help it. All they see, all they smell, is you and they'll do whatever it takes to kill you. Trust me, living with the guilt is unbearable.

I wish I wasn't like this. I wish my family was still around. I wish I could tell them all that I loved them. That I was sorry, and tell my mother she was right.

_But wishing doesn't get you anything. _


	2. Chapter 1

**I'm back again, and hopefully for good. I've decided to update once a week (hopefully) for this story, and I've improved my writing style since I first started writing, so with a bit of luck the content is better. **

**Disclaimer- Unfortunately I do own these fantabulous characters except for Malia and her family (possibly a few others idk yet)**

**Eight Months Ago**

"PLEASEEEEEE MALIA" pleaded a small blonde girl looking up at me with bright blue eyes. She sat in my bedroom, on top of my crudely painted dresser. The sun was pouring into the room giving her a golden glow.

"They have to let you go. They promised" she whined.

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, then scooped my little sister up and set her down on the floor.

"Riley we've been over this, like, a million times. The carnival starts at seven, by the time we get there it'll be dark, we can't go. Besides, your dad said if you behave he'll take you to swimming lessons in the fall, so no whining."

She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side, her arms crossed, with an expectant look on her face.

"MA-LEE-AHHH" She pleaded, drawing my name. "ONCE a year. ONCE. The carnivals only here for one week and daddy said we could go do something for making through the school year".

I sigh, it's not my step-dad, Al I'm worried about. It's my mom.

My step-dads' actually pretty nice. Which is the problem. He tries, he really does, but when your step-daughter has a tendency to have violent outbursts, the picture-perfect, sweet and kind step-dad only makes it worse. It's a better than my mom though.

Let me tell you something about my mom. She's not exactly….normal. Frankly, that's an understatement. She's kind of psychotic. Ever since my dad left when I only a few months old she turned, _different_.

You didn't mess with my mom and the principal rule in our house was _never _leave the house after dark. It was something that my mom enforced heavily, and I mean heavily.

Like boarding the doors closed, locking the windows, turning in our house into a war base, and then patrolling the hall with a shot gun. (I went out into the hallway when I was younger to be greeted to the sight of a loaded barrel pressed to my forehead, _not a pleasant experience_).

Mom had these crazy theories about everything, nothing was ever normal, it always had to be a magical occurrence or something.

_The car take more than a second to start? Get rid of it. _

_Rustling in the bushes? Must be a monster._

_Knock on the door after the sun has begun to set? Never answer it. _

_Anything you want to go to after nightfall? To bad. (Don't get me started on the events I've missed; hockey practices, school dances, graduations, parties, recitals ect.)_

The list is endless.

Riley stood across from me with her arms crossed, her pale lips pursed into a frown.

"You could at least _ask _you know. I bet daddy could convince mom if you tell him you want to go".

"But I don't want to go. _You _want to go, not me, I would be perfectly content staying home" I replied.

She looked at me again, this time with tears in her eyes.

"PLEEEA-"

I cut her off before she could start with the fake crying (an annoyingly sly trick she learned from yours truly).

"Fine, but you owe me big time, wide eyes" I said with a caustic tone.

"THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU" she chanted, and she continued chanting until I ushered her out of my bedroom door and into the hallway. I closed the door shut.

I sprawled on my bed in defeat.

I'm NOT a big fan of talking to my step dad. The moment I start talking to him he feels the sudden urge to _connect _with me, and _talk about my feelings. _Eventually, he start sounding less like a step dad, and more like one of my dozens of therapists.

I stared at the swirling silver detailing on my pale blue ceiling. Each swirl like a constellation, connecting one piece of chipped paint to the next. I sat up, stretched and went over to my dresser. On top of it sat a mirror, reflecting back at me a tall lanky girl, with curly black hair, falling over her shoulders, and piercing blue eyes set in a glare.

At 5"11 I'm tall for the age of 15, making me tower over most of the girls -and some of the boys- in my class as if I am flimsy tree that could fall right over if it was too windy outside.

Lucky for me there were some upsides to that. I'm faster, and more quick witted than most, and because I lack the strong, poised build my mother has, she took it upon herself to have me learn just about every form of self-defense she could find classes for within the northern Maine area.

I'm serious here, forget dance lessons, we're talking kick boxing, karate, jiu jitsu, aikido, tai chi, taekwondo, ect.

Yet another brilliant idea of my mother's to protect me from the monsters, should for some crazy reason I do the unthinkable, and stay out past dark.

_I know. The horror. _

Taking one last glance in the mirror, I took a deep breath, and left.

Slipping downstairs past my sister's room, I walked into the kitchen, fidgeting with the ties on shredded jeans. Al stood in the kitchen, a soda bottle in his hand.

He saw me out of the corner of his eyes, and raised his eyebrows fumbling around with the bottle before he set it down on the counter.

Shifting my weight nervously I looked at him expectantly. Understanding that I probably wasn't going to start a conversation he took it upon himself to start one for me.

"You know Janet from my work, well she says that her son went to this anger management camp in Louisiana and it helped him a lot. Fred I believe the boy's name was. I met him once, good kid, awful temper though" he said.

I rolled my eyes. My problems were one of last things I wanted to talk about, although its better that than the whole "_How Babies Are Made"_ conversation he attempted to have with me when my mom got pregnant. _Way _to many details on that front.

After loads of tedious small talk that ranged everywhere from Syria to what my neighbor's cat had done over the weekend, I finally popped the big question.

"I don't know Malia, seems kind of risky it does run after dark, and we all know how your mother feels about that "he responded.

However after much pleading he caved, and he eventually convinced my mom to let us go providing we followed every direction she gave no matter how ludicrous.

The day continued like any other day, time passed as usual, and eventually it was 5 o' clock.

Time to leave.

The clouds stretched across the sky until eventually fading into the glimmering rays of sunset and hues of orange. The pale moon began to peak over the falling darkness like a luminescent cloud.

Mom hustled us out to the car locking the door and bolting it shut. With the enthusiasm of a firing squad candidate she sat in the front of our old, dingy chevy. The roof of the truck sagged, and the windows were dusty and dilapidated. _Great. _

Shutting the door behind me I climbed in next to my sister and we headed out.

We spent less than an hour there before my mom grabbed my sister's hand and beckoned my to come with her. She rushed us towards the car as Riley stumbled along in tow. Al sat in the front seat already buckled ready to leave.

Riley and I exchanged a look. Despite obviously wanting to protest our leaving we kept quiet to avoid the yelling of my frantic mother who was already exiting the parking lot, not even bothering to pay the parking fee.

"We need to be home now" my mom said.

Grabbing my sisters hand I sat back in my seat.

"We need to be home now" my mom repeated.

You could tell my mother's stomach was in knots. She peered over her shoulder every so often and raced down the freeway ignoring ever traffic light and speed limit sign there was.

Riley and I stared at the car's clock like it was a timer on a bomb, knowing that if we weren't home my 7:00 my mother would freak.

Seven was my mom's lucky number, and we could never EVER, stay out past seven at night or go out before seven in the morning. It didn't make much sense really. By seven at night the sun had already set anyways, it was just one of her things.

Right now it was 6:43.

It takes a good half an hour to get home under normal circumstances.

My mom eyes the clock, each tick dragging us forward in time with no reversing it.

She didn't bother to take notice of the speed she was driving.

But I did.

And that night my mother was driving at 87 miles per hour.

87.

But that didn't matter to my mom, distance was all that mattered. She wasn't stopping for anything or anyone and she was defiantly not taking her foot off the gas when a drizzle began pouring down from the sky. The hiss of the tires over the pavement rang in my ears, but was soon drowned out by the sound of my own heartbeat. I squeezed Riley's hand, and breathed.

_Everything will be okay_ I reminded myself. _Everything will be okay._

But everything wasn't okay. The car swerved, out of control, taking us with it. An oncoming car tried to avoid us…and failed. The car flipped so many times I became disoriented in a second.

The sound of her my heartbeat was washed away by the sounds of Riley's screams.

The kind of screams that made your blood run cold. It pierced through the darkness and ignited fear inside me. Black fog clouded the edges of my vision, my mind swirling I reached out for something, anything to help me.

And then it was over.

And life was never the same again.

**Hey guys so if you liked or didn't like please review. Comments are always appreciated. **


End file.
